


Don't be Late

by Sky_scrapers_and_dreams



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Lesbain, Phasma is the biggest lesbain i will fight you, Reader Insert, Self Insert, Sex, Smut, Tongue Piercing, idk what im doing, probably power play?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:02:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6915697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sky_scrapers_and_dreams/pseuds/Sky_scrapers_and_dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You are an overtired scientist in a first order research facility, and you, you do not deserve this. The survivors from Starkiller base have apparently been relocated to your facility. And they are making things difficult, very, very difficult. Through all the work you've been doing lately and all the late nights. You didn't notice a certain Captain watching you like a hawk....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't be Late

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hi so I noticed that there's like ZERO Phasma/Reader on Ao3 and ovbiously, that needed to be fixed. Tbh this started when I tried to send a multi-part story to a blog called thirst-order-confessions (lovely blog btw, go check it out) and then tumblr ATE SOME OF MY ASKS. So I thought, hey, why not just, write an entire fanfiction? And here we are like a month and a half later. Comments and kudos always welcome, enjoy!  
> Many many thanks to my beta reader sappic-sith on tumblr for making me posting this story possible at all.

Phasma noticed you long before you noticed her. 

After the destruction of Starkiller Base, the science division (which you were proud to say you were in second in command of) had been overwhelmed with the demand for promising new weapons. You were hip deep in paperwork and knee deep in sleep deprivation. There was no time to notice the silver armored officer watching you like a Hawke. You didn’t even know that this is where the survivors of Starkiller had been relocated. That was until, there was an incident. In which one very important, very expensive and very high tech computer (and some research not yet transferred from flimsi to said computer) ended up being slashed to bits. Not an hour before all new data was automatically backed up that month. You had been neglecting your shameless habit of obsessively backing up your data for the past two standard months or so. Kriffing hells. 

You stood before the mess, and let out a few deep breaths. Frustration is boiling beneath the very thin surface that is the composure you’re keeping. This would set your teams project back by at the least six weeks and at the most twelve. Some of the data on the computer might be salvageable. You could work with this, it was all okay, you, you were going to beat the living hell out of whoever so gleefully slashed your research to bits.

Someone was in the room with you, in front of the still smoldering mess with you. He has been rambling for a bit now. Stammering about reimbursements and extensions. Though all of it was flying over your head.

“Stop. Talking.” You grit out through your teeth, white hot fury replacing the mild frustration you had felt. 

“I truly am sorry for this inco-“ The man speaking is somewhat short, with dark hair and a face you would describe as gaunt. You raise you hand in a stopping motion. 

“I said, stop talking.” He does this time. You turn to face him, eyes sweeping over where his rank is. 

“Lieutenant…” You take a step forward and lean in to read his name tag, squinting, the man seems surprised with your proximity. “Mitaka. Ah, you, are going to tell me. Who is responsible for, this.” You wave your hand in a wide gesture towards the mess that was your teams work station.

“I. What?” 

“I asked. Who is responsible for desecrating weeks of very important very hard earned research data.” You reply to his useless and unimportant bumble of a response. 

“Well, um, it was Kylo Ren,” Lieutenant Mitaka seems hesitant in telling you. 

“I do not recall that name being on my personnel list,” You would know, you have gone over all the staff here to see if they might have any useful qualifications. Or if they would be good test subjects. “In fact, I cannot recall ever seeing you here before.” 

“Ah, well, after the destruction of Starkiller Base this is where any survivors were transferred.” 

There had been a bit of commotion over newcomers a while back now that you think about it. 

“Do most of your staff see it fit to destroy very important research?” You hiss at the man, who by now is confused.

“N-no um, that’s, ah, well- why did you want to know who did this anyhow?” 

“Bring up his file on your datapad please.” Its not a request, it’s a demand. The lieutenant is smart enough to comply instead of asking more questions or stuttering around conversation. You snatch the datapad from his hands before the man can tell you its done and rake your eyes over the file. There’s a history of destruction of equipment and not one strike or consequence has been issued. The mans face is clear in your mind now that you’ve seen a picture. Its around lunch and you are more than willing to bet he is in the canteen with most of the staff. You shove the device back into the Lieutenants chest. 

“If that wretch is going to so freely destroy things in my facility, he is at least getting a broken nose out of it my dear.” The last part of that leaves your mouth as a sweet sneer. Mitaka is gaping at you, trying to protest as you leave the room, lab coat billowing out behind you “you’re going to get yourself killed.” You hear from the now frantic man who is struggling after you, trying to prevent you from punching this Kylo Ren in the face. Even if you die it will be worth it to feel that satisfying crack underneath your fist. 

Ten paces away, the door to the canteen is ten paces away. You don’t even know if he is in there, but your feet pull you towards your destination nonetheless. Maybe if he isn’t there you will have time to rethink your life decisions and not punch other first order personnel in the face. Maybe you can- 

Oh but he IS there. 

You spot him as soon as the doors to the canteen hiss open. He is very tall, and broad. You don’t care; your fist is going to be breaking his nose at the soonest available moment. He was injured in the Starkiller incident; he is likely still healing, yet again, no care to be found. He destroyed your research. 

“Kylo Ren!” You shout. He turns. You are within striking distance. 

You hit hard and fast. Your right hand comes to meet his face and, ah, there is a satisfying crack. Kylo Ren stumbles backwards a few paces; you step forward and strike him again in the gut. He grunts in pain. The man is hunched over slightly now, looking both irritated and mystified. He tilts his head in question at the sudden assault. 

You take a deep breath, calming yourself, and straightening your lab coat.

“Now, as I am aware, Mr.Ren,” Pleased, you sound pleased with yourself that you have punched this man for destroying your work. “You, have destroyed one very important computer, containing some very important research. That was mine.” 

Realization lights up in his eyes. 

“Go on.” His voice is carefully neutral. 

The staff are aware you are protective of your research and no one from the facility is surprised. Mitaka, having followed you to the canteen, is gaping at you, along with some other faces you haven’t seen before. Hushed whispers are breaking out between them. They must be from Starkiller. 

“I don’t know why it you felt you could so freely destroy expensive first order equipment, nor do I care. I do not want to hear about another such incident. Are we clear?” There is a hard edge in your voice. Kylo Ren looks at you and there’s a subtle hint of surprise in his expression. You get the impression that no ones ever confronted him about such incidents before. 

“Alright.” He sounds, exhausted. But its an agreement not to wreck things around the facility, so you’re satisfied.

A relaxed smile replaces the cold expression your face carried a moment ago. 

“Good!” You chirp and turn to leave. “Dr.Reed, Dr.Jeeves, your lunch break is over; we have weeks, possibly months worth of research to recreate.” The two colleagues you called flutter after you, spitting up a flurry of questions and suggestions. You had a long day ahead of you.

That is more than likely when Phasma had noticed you, after all, not many people got to punch Kylo Ren in the face and live. And she had been in the canteen that day. But it wouldn’t be until three weeks later that you and the Captain would meet. 

You’re going on three days of no sleep, and you have a meeting with someone later that night, you can’t remember who with. But it meant you have to be awake. It made for an overall foul mood. You are headed for the lift to get down to your work station. It feels like you’re forgetting something (something more important than the name of whoever you’re meeting with later) but you can’t quite place what it is. Once you’re in the lift the doors almost slide shut when a hand darts in between the doors to keep them from closing. 

“My, that was close.” A woman’s voice comes from beneath the silver helmet. You sigh.

“What floor?” 

“Thirty five.” 

“We get off on the same floor then.” 

“Well that saves you some button pressing.” The woman sounds smug. 

“Yes it certainly does, who are you?” 

“Captain Phasma, the one and only.” 

“Oh you’re one of the ones from Starkiller, delightful.” 

“And you’re the doctor that punched Kylo Ren in the face and lived.” 

“Why do all of you seem so amazed by that?” 

“It is a long and frustrating story filled with broken equipment and scared officers.” 

You are ten floors away from your destination now. This is when the lift grinds to a screeching halt, and the emergency lights flicker on. Oh, that’s what you were forgetting. 

“There was a scheduled blackout today.” 

“Oh? Why yes it appears there is one.” Phasma says to you, she seems unfazed and rather pleased in fact. 

“We are stuck here in this lift for gods know how long.” 

“We are.” The sound of a helmet coming off registers in your ears. “But adapting to new situations is a good skill to have for any first order personnel.” 

“Adapting? Were trapped in an elevator for-“. You turn your head and your breath hitches. The woman is, attractive. Her light blonde hair isn’t long enough that it needs to be gelled back, but it’s pushed back in a formal manner. Her eyes are a steely blue and you find yourself caught in them. There’s a playful smirk on her pink lips. 

“You were saying?” She sounds like she’s teasing you. 

“I… you knew there was a blackout today.” 

“What? Are you implying I got trapped here with you on purpose? Preposterous.” Phasma turns towards you. You had not realized how tall the woman really was until this moment. 

“Oh, but since we are here, doctor. I couldn’t help but notice that this…” She reaches towards your head and grasps a tuft of flyaway’s that managed to escape your notice “Is not up to protocol.” Phasma chides.

You had been careless when doing your hair up this morning and hadn’t bothered to gel it. 

“I.. well its..” You feel your heart flutter.

“In fact, I think a full inspection is in order, hmm?” 

A blush takes up residence in your cheeks. 

“I think that might be agreeable.” The words tumble out of your mouth unceremoniously and without much thought on your part. You can worry about consequences later.

Phasma lets her helmet clatter to the floor and you find yourself being shoved against the wall of the elevator behind you. A hand is pressed hard against your hip and another on your shoulder, Phasma is taller than you, looking up at her you feel a twinge of excitement in your gut which turns to pure desire when she gently leans down to kiss you. 

Phasma’s lips are soft and smooth, the kiss isn’t rough, but it doesn’t lack passion. Her lips move against yours and you respond eagerly. A hand has moved to the bottom of your shirt and is working on un-tucking it and unbuttoning. The gauntlets of the woman’s armor are cold; she is letting them brush gently against skin with each button she undoes. How her fingers are nimble enough in them to undo buttons you don’t know. You let your tongue sweep across Phasmas lips, they taste like coffee. The other woman bites your bottom lip and you let out a sound of surprise. She pulls away and holds you to the wall placing a strong hand on your chest. Your shirt is completely undone and all that covers your breasts is a simple bra. 

“I don’t recall giving you permission to taste me. Tsk tsk doctor, such bad behaviour,” Phasma sounds playful, but there’s a deeper edge to her voice that makes you shiver. 

“You should…” You pause to clear your throat suddenly finding it dry. “Take off those gauntlets, they’re cold. 

“Oh? But you just did something wrong. What do we say when we do something wrong?” Phasma says letting a hand trail downwards.

You flush with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.” 

“That’s ‘I’m sorry…?’” She looks at you expectantly. 

“I’m sorry, sir.” Not having been sure what to call her, the look of satisfaction that takes hold of her face tells you it was the right choice. 

“You will only do as I tell you to. If I haven’t told you you can I expect you to ask permission. Understood?” 

“Yes sir.” Gaze shifted downwards, you are unable to meet Phasmas eyes, your cheeks burning. 

“You will address me as sir or captain, you may touch my hair, and you may use your tongue as you please now when I kiss you.” Phasma keeps an even and commanding tone.  
Still looking down, it’s a surprise when a now gauntlet free hand lifts up your chin so that your eyes meet Phasmas steely blues. She brushes a thumb across your cheek fondly. 

“I want you to enjoy yourself, you’re doing just fine.” She smiles at you before leaning down for a kiss. This time its rough. Her tongue invades your mouth and you are pleasantly surprised to feel the ball of a piercing move against your tongue. A leg is pressed between your thighs; you let out a quiet moan. You move your lips in tandem with the other woman’s.

Phasma moves her attentions from your mouth to your neck as her hands travel to unclasp your bra. Its shrugged halfway down your arms just like your shirt, the front of it carelessly suspended over your midriff to reveal your breasts. The blonde haired woman moves her mouth downwards, trailing kisses lower, slowing over your breasts, stopping in places to bite and suck. Some of those are definitely going to leave marks. Her hands are all over you, leaving gentle touches across the expanse of your torso. Excitement pools in your stomach, muscles growing taut in anticipation. 

You can feel every breath you take with such clarity, every touch across your body feels electric, sharp. The durasteel of the lift is cold on the skin of your back. Phasma is enjoying herself, biting, licking just above the hem of your pants. Pausing only to gently kiss some of the marks she’s left there like she’s proud of what she’s done. All too suddenly she has your pants undone and the cool air hits your legs when they are pulled down. 

If any shame resided in you because of the situation you got yourself tangled into it was gone now. You breathe out something between a whine and a sigh. Phasma is on her knees before you. She looks beautiful, engrossed in her teasing. Her fingers are skirting between your legs now, lightly dragging her fingers from back to front on your panties. You can feel yourself becoming wet, you want more contact. 

“Captain… please.” 

“Hmmm? Doctor, this is an inspection, I’ll take my time.” She is looking up at you now.

You let out a breathy sigh and run your own hands across your breasts then down across your abdomen. Tangling fingers in Phasma’s hair you open your mouth to beg, “Please sir, I’m so wet, I need to feel more. Please I want your mouth on me. ” 

“Why didn’t you ask me so nicely before doctor.” Phasma purrs up at you. She trails her fingers up your thighs to rest at the top of your panties. Sliding her fingers underneath the dainty fabric she slowly pulls them down. They join your pants which are haphazardly pooled around your ankles. 

It all makes for a raunchy sight. You, pressed up against the elevator wall, the dim illumination from the emergency lights, Phasma on her knees before you. A long moan escapes you as the captain presses her face between your thighs and lets her tongue play across your clit. The wet heat of her mouth on you makes your head swim with bliss. Hands move to press into the wet heat of your vagina, you clench around the intrusion that is Phasmas fingers. She curls her fingers inside of you, taking her own pleasure in the obscene noises she is drawing out of you and the satisfaction of having your taste on her  
tongue. 

 

She starts slow, moving her slender fingers in and out of you slowly. Teasing your clit with her tongue. A low hum comes from the woman before you and it leaves you with pleasant shivers. The movement of her slender fingers changes and it brushes against something inside you that makes your vision swim. Warmth begins to pool in your stomach, the steady work of Phasmas fingers and mouth sending any coherent thoughts far from your mind. You thread your hands into Phasmas hair and press her face into your warmth, her tongue making quick work of undoing you. 

“Oh don’t stop, please please please, you feel so good please I-.” You stop with a sharp gasp as Phasma increases the intensity of her motions. 

Fully set on bringing you to completion. Her mouth is warm and pleasantly swirling around your clit. With one last brush of her fingers against that spot inside of you, bliss clouds your perception, you cum with a lewd cry of pleasure. Phasma rises and gently brings her arms around your form still wracked with twitches of orgasm. She lays gentle kisses on your shoulders, up your neck and peppers them around your mouth. The euphoria of climax slowly ebbs away; you let your head slump forward against Phasmas armored chest. 

“That was… I mean… wow.” Words aren’t quite working out for you in the haze of afterglow. 

“Mmm, don’t mention it doctor. I always come up with pleasing results.” Phasma smirks at you and brings the fingers that had been inside you to her mouth. You watch transfixed as she licks and sucks them clean. “Now, being trapped in an elevator wasn’t  
so bad now wa-“ 

There’s a jolt and the distinct sound of mechanical whirring. The power is back on. The sorry state you are in comes crashing to realization for you and you scurry to get your clothes on before the lift reaches its destination. Phasma, composed as ever calmly puts her gauntlets and helmet back on. You are hurriedly tucking in your shirt as the elevator creeps from floor thirty four to thirty five. Once there, it stops with a creak and the doors slide open. Phasma strides and you move to do the same when she pauses. 

“Oh and, doctor?” 

“I, um, y-yes Captain Phasma?” 

“We have a meeting later tonight, don’t be late.” 

The breath leaves your lungs as the other woman saunters away. Oh, oh, oh. Your meeting is with the Captain. The one in which you just engaged in fraternization with. In a lift. You are staring dumbfounded out of the lift door; it begins to close when someone bustles in. You jump, still in a daze. Its one of your co-workers. They frantically push the button for the floor they are going to. 

“Oh, doctor, that blackout got in the way of something and now I’m behind schedule. Are you getting off here?” 

“Nope. Just ah, no, no I am not getting off on this floor thank you.” 

“Uh, okay? You doing alright there?” 

“I’m, just great thank you.” The smile you turn towards your coworker feels, and looks, forced. 

You are so fucked.

**Author's Note:**

> Should there be more? Im thinking Phasma needs some enjoyment so maybe... a second chapter? Yes? No?


End file.
